Prioritising Neurodivergent Voices

Written by Kate Foster, Author and Speaker

There's an awful lot more discussion and insight into neurodiversity these days, with diagnosis methods evolving beyond the standard criteria that's been used for far too long. As a result, more people are now disagnosed, or have a neurodivergent family member, student, peer, or colleague. So, understanding what neurodivergent really means, how it differs from person to person, and how individuals can be helped and accommodated in social settings to feel properly included is steadily growing.

It's wonderful to see how far research has come in the past few decades, and on top of this, it's empowering to hear the voices of actual neurodivergent people speaking candidly about their experiences and lives. We're making great progress in spreading awareness, and in turn encouraging acceptance of those whose brains function atypically and who are navigating worlds not built for them.

Acknowledging this progress is important but so is appreciating that there is still so much more work to do. We can't rest on our laurels. We also can't fall into the trap of believing that reading a couple of articles or blogs, receiving a training course, or knowing one or two neurodivergent people means we have all the knowledge we need. We don’t.

I'm autistic (and likely ADHD too) and have OCD so am confident I know a fair amount, but I am also continually meeting new people who help me challenge and expand on what I already know.

An area that I feel continues to be an issue is from whom we hear and learn about neurodiversity. This post isn't about dismissing anyone's perspective nor is it intended to be argumentative. As is the way with many autistic people, I go out of my way to avoid any form of confrontation or argument! It does concern me, however, that the voices we regularly hear from, the ones given the largest, often most respected and widely distributed platforms are not neurodivergent people. Again, I'm not suggesting we shouldn't be hearing from clinicians, researchers, academics, educators, or parents. These points of view are valuable and needed to ensure we have a well-rounded understanding that benefits and supports everyone. Yet time and again, the lack of actual neurodivergent people and their perspectives being heard astounds me.

Autism and ADHD in particular are so often talked about in terms of the outward experience. By this I mean we focus on what can be seen on the outside of a person, such as behaviour and physical traits, meltdowns, speech delays, social interaction, etc, and what's worse, the use of negative language such as disorder and deficit. And when we continue to look at the neurodivergent experience solely as external behaviour that matters only when it affects other people we perpetuate the idea that being neurodivergent is wrong and bad, broken. It often focuses on altering the neurodivergent person's behaviour or attitude, which in turn reinforces the belief that assimilation is the same as inclusion. Sadly, it isn't.

To create a full and fairer understanding to ensure neurodivergents feel seen and safe, moving forward, in my opinion, must involve giving more neurodivergent people a platform to speak and share their experience, their needs, their stories. In fact, when it comes to discussing what's best for neurodivergent people, I believe their voices must be prioritised, not just in education circles, but in all areas of life.

If we start at the core, on the inside, we have a stronger chance of making schools and other social environments safer and truly inclusive, meaning neurodivergent people can reach their potential, are not set up to feel like failures, reduce the mental health crisis within the community, and can start to thrive rather than survive at best. This isn't a difficult change to make, but the impact could be remarkable.

No one can deny that making simple accommodations for neurodivergent kids more often than not benefits every other child and creates a calmer, friendlier, and more relaxed environment for learning. Soft music and lighting, movement breaks, adaptations to uniform, blankets and cushions on hand, normalising stimming, teaching every class member basic Auslan for quiet communication, optional group work. These are a just a few starter ideas that help to lower a neurodivergent child's stress, sensory, and emotional levels that in turn makes learning and socialising more accessible.

I write books that centre autistic children in ordinary storylines. Autistic people have to fight nearly every moment of every day to be understood and accepted, to not stand out, so books that only focus on their trauma, or the trauma of those around them, something that sadly continues to be sought after in children's literature, will never encourage equality. My autistic characters let you into their lives and minds, not shying away from struggles, but mostly showing you just how ordinary they are. The same dreams, hopes and goals in life as every other child.

All of my books are researched and read by neurodivergent people before being published, so I can explore any ableism or biases I'm not aware I have. I listen and learn so I can better the lives of the community. I think this is something we should all do at the very least. My feeling is that if we approach education around neurodivergence in the way I approach writing my books, spotlighting the neurodvergent voice and involving a variety of perspectives from the community, then we stand a better chance of making positive and lasting change.

Kate is presenting in the Diverse Learners Symposium Conference Brisbane on 31 July - 1 August 2025 at the Brisbane Convention & Exhibition Centre.